Ready to try cutting guitar tracks as a freelancer on your DAW? You’re joining a rich tradition, and a trio of domestic shredders are here to help you sound your best.
Do-it-yourself recording is a great musical tradition. Machines for capturing sound were available for home use as early as the 1930s. Famously, in the late ’30s and early ’40s, ethnomusicologist Alan Lomax, a lover of folklore and American music, followed in the footsteps of his father, John Lomax, and drove a 1935 Plymouth sedan across the United States with some tapes and a recording machine in the trunk. In August 1941, he captured musicians on their front porches and in living rooms across the American South, including one 28-year-old McKinley Morganfield—better known by his stage name, Muddy Waters. When Waters heard himself on tape, he was deeply moved. “He brought his stuff down and recorded me right in my house, and when he played back the first song I sounded just like anybody's records,” Waters told Rolling Stone back in 1978. “Man, you don't know how I felt that Saturday afternoon when I heard that voice and it was my own voice.” Lomax’s field recordings (trunk-recordings, perhaps?) are a significant jewel in the American Folklife Center’s treasury at the Library of Congress.
The apartment-ready 4-track tape recorder changed the game in the ’70s, then the next decade’s digital advancements blew the doors clean off the studio system. Suddenly, artists could handily create their own recordings from home, and they weren’t half bad. Check out Morphine’s 1993 radio hit “Cure for Pain,” for an example. The horns were recorded on a 4-track in frontman Mark Sandman’s Cambridge, Massachusetts, loft. (Listen closely and you can hear the effect the slightly stretched tape had on their sound.)
“They were really experimenting with unorthodox recording techniques to get previously unheard sounds onto records, and you can still incorporate that philosophy into digital recording.” - Rich Gilbert
As time went on, some went all-in. Venerated alt-rock outfit Deerhoof, who had used a 4-track to record their 1997 album, began making records with laptops and Pro Tools starting in 2000. “It seems like you can either go to a medium- or high-budget studio for one day, or you can use the equipment you have or can borrow from friends, and do it as long as you want,” drummer Greg Saunier said in a 2006 interview. “I realized there was no comparison—the time was so much more valuable than the fanciness of the equipment.”
Home recording equipment for guitarists has basically moved at the speed of light since 2006, and now many of the pros don’t even leave the comfort of their own nest to lay down award-winning tracks. There are plenty of reasons for that (besides the ability to do it in your pajamas). Recording your own guitars in your own space can be incredibly empowering: It’s an exercise in self-sufficiency and independence, both of which can be rare commodities in the world of recorded music. Perhaps most importantly, it doesn’t require a stack of cash to get recordings that you like.
“Sometimes, recording in a DAW, it can sound like you’re on top of the music if you’re recording in a collaboration.” - Ella Feingold
Of course, there’s a spectrum of approaches. Some rely on big-money gear to get the job done, but just as many will swear by cobbling together a home-brew sound setup that matches the project. And besides, it’s not all about the equipment. Recording guitar parts on your own in your dwelling is a unique process with its own complexities, not all of which can be captured and explained in instructional YouTube videos. That’s where battle-tested insights come in handy.
So, I asked three guitarists—a studio heavy-hitter to the stars; a “legendary” long-time independent punk; and an alt-rock up-and-comer—how they cut record-worthy 6-string tracks at home. Here’s what I learned.
Ella Feingold
Flanked by records from Tangerine Dream and Vangelis, Ella Feingold clutches her home studio’s secret weapon: a ’60s Maestro EP-2 Echoplex.
When Ella Feingold started recording at home in 2002, the Digidesign Digi 001 was the tech of the day. Feingold always wanted to figure out how guitar parts and overdubs worked together, be they on a Barry White record or a Motown guitar section, so she set to recreating those layers with the recording system. It wasn’t long before she was working on overdubs for other artists with her new rig, and the practice turned into a career. Now, she’s known for her work with Silk Sonic, Questlove, and Erykah Badu, and on Godzilla: King of the Monsters.
Feingold began her career when everyone still gathered in the studio and recorded to tape, so she’s familiar with the feeling and energy of creating something together rather than in isolation. The key to avoiding Lone Musician Syndrome, she says, is to find a way to get inside the music rather than playing on top of it. “Sometimes, recording in a DAW, it can sound like you’re on top of the music if you’re recording in a collaboration,” she says.
There are technical remedies for this, like plugins and impulse responses (IRs) that can help mimic atmosphere or certain room sounds. But there’s a philosophical angle to it, too. When Feingold gets a project, she first listens to it over and over with no instrument in her hand. The idea is to rein in your instincts. Sometimes, they’re helpful. But other times, they let you drift to familiar sounds, progressions, or timings. Feingold will jot notes based on what pops into her head on those first listens, but only later will she pick up a guitar to arrange a part, and see how those initial reactions actually fit with a patient, considered read on the music.
Ella Feingold's Home Studio Gear
Guitars
- 1981 Gibson ES-345 Stereo
- 1967 Vox Super Lynx
- 1967 Goya Rangemaster
- 1950’s Kay Thin Twin
- 1981 Ibanez GB10
- Fender Nile Rodgers Hitmaker Stratocaster
- 1972 Fender Telecaster
- Fender MIM Stratocaster (strung for inverted tuning)
Amps
- 1966 Fender Princeton Reverb
Effects
- Maestro EP-2 Echoplex
- Maestro Boomerang BG-2 Wah Pedal
- Maestro PS-1A Phase Shifter
- Maestro FZ-1A Fuzz-Tone
- Maestro FSH-1 Filter/Sample Hold
- Zoom 9030
Interface, Mics, and Monitors
- Acme Audio DI WB-3
- BAE 1073
- Ableton Live
- RCA 77-D
- Electro-Voice 635A
- Yamaha NS-10
- Dynaudio BM-15
Feingold’s biggest gripe with home recording is engineering for herself. When she records direct into her interface, it’s no issue, but miking, listening, and tweaking mic position ad infinitum is a major drag—especially if a client has revisions on your work. Say you recorded a lead part in 8th notes, and they tell you a week later that they want a portion of it redone in 16ths. If you recorded those parts on a miked amp, there’s a good chance it’s not set up the same way anymore, and you’ll spend a nice chunk of time replicating the exact sound you got the first go-around. “If I could, I would never engineer for myself,” she groans.
Feingold lives in the mountains, so background noise isn’t a concern these days, though she uses the Waves NS1 plugin for apartment dwellers looking to erase unwanted background from their recordings. But what’s her biggest piece of advice for guitarists recording from home for someone else’s projects? Communicate. “Ask them what their expectations are of you,” she says. “It’s always important to know who you’re working with. By asking, it allows you to help them and not waste your own time.”
Finally, if you’re miking your rig, Feingold suggests checking out good preamps for everything you record. They can add something to the signal that will make your life easier at every turn down the road. “Getting ‘the sound’ before it touches the computer is really where it’s at,” she says.
Rich Gilbert
Lifelong DIYer Rich Gilbert sold most of his home studio gear last year, but with just a couple key pieces, he can still cut album-ready tracks from his new casa in Italy.
Photo by Liz Linder
Home studio whiz Rich Gilbert sold off most of his recording toys when he moved from Maine to Italy in late 2023, but he’s cool with it. All he needs these days is a good laptop with Logic Pro, an interface, and some half-decent nearfield speakers to get comfy with. He records most of his guitars direct these days, and writes and programs his own drums in EZdrummer.
Gilbert has been playing in rock bands since the late ’70s, including Boston art-punks Human Sexual Response and the Zulus, Frank Black and the Catholics, and Eileen Rose (whom Gilbert married). He always loved recording, and soaked in everything he could learn when his bands were in the studio, even if it meant pestering the engineer a little. When Pro Tools became affordable in the early 2000s, he loaded it up with a rackmount interface and MacBook Pro. He devoured issues of Tape Op magazine and started building up his collection of microphones and plugins. He still doesn’t call himself a pro, but that’s part of the point. “This whole digital recording revolution is fantastic in that it enables people like me to make good-sounding records,” he says. “At the same time, it’s kind of a cheat because I don’t really have to know as much.” Over the past 20 years, Gilbert has home-recorded LPs for his solo project, Eileen Rose, and his old band, the Zulus. He also has a practice of cutting tracks for indie artists—for one example, St. Augustine, Florida’s Delta Haints—at $75 per song.
Rich Gilbert's Home Studio Gear
Guitars
- Peavey Omniac JD
- Amps
- Line 6 POD Farm
Effects
- Slate Digital plugins
Interface, Mics, and Monitors
- Pro Tools
- Mackie HR824
- Line 6 POD Studio UX2
- Shure SM7
- Shure SM57
- Shure SM58
- Audio-Technica AT2020
- Audio-Technica AT2035
- Blue Spark
- Monster Power PowerCenter PRO 3500
Gilbert says any aspiring at-home engineer ought to go right to the source for solid information. Study how other engineers have recorded things through history. If there’s a particular sound or feel you’re going for, look at the equipment used to capture it. These days, chances are good that basically any piece of gear you’d lust after has been turned into a plugin.
“Read as much as you can,” says Gilbert. “Read interviews with other engineers as much as you can, ’cause you’ll learn.” In Gilbert’s decades of reading and research, he says he’s seen one sentiment crop up again and again: There is no right or wrong way to do it. “All these things we do are just techniques that someone else did, and then passed it on to someone else,” says Gilbert.
That ethos, he explains, actually comes right from the 1960s and ’70s golden recording era that most of us are trying to ape. “They were really experimenting with unorthodox recording techniques to get previously unheard sounds onto records, and you can still incorporate that philosophy into digital recording,” says Gilbert. “Don’t be afraid to experiment. If it sounds good, it is good.”
That said, another important piece is to know when to walk away from a session. If every frequency seems to be just out of whack with your ears, there’s a good chance you need a break. Remember: At home, you’re juggling the jobs of guitarist, engineer, and producer, and sometimes, the producer has to tell the guitarist to take a walk and come back with a fresh perspective.
James Goodson
James Goodson launched his home-recording project Dazy as an outlet for his “demoitis,” and his song “Pressure Cooker” exploded into an alt-classic.
Photo by Chris Carreon
James Goodson never meant for his band Dazy to be a home-recording project, but after years of tinkering in GarageBand, he’d gotten attached to the rawness of the demos he made with drum machines. During the great shutdown of 2020, he decided to release them into the wild. Now, his single “Pressure Cooker,” a collab with the punks in Militarie Gun, has racked up more than 500,000 streams.
Goodson says he’s not a technical person, so he tries to keep it simple and trust his ears. “If something sounds cool, then that’s that,” he says. “I’m not worried about ‘the right way’ to arrive there.” After almost 20 years on GarageBand, he recently switched to Logic, into which he runs his 4-channel Behringer interface. He uses two mics—a Shure SM57 for his vocals, and a Sennheiser e 609 for recording guitars. He prefers the 609 for its simplicity: Slap it right flush with the grille and start playing. It’s usually on a Vox AC15C1, but Goodson’s secret weapon is a lineup of battery-powered pocket amps that sound “truly wild” when cranked. This combo is how he achieves most of the lush, varied guitar sounds on Dazy’s recordings, with the odd “weird DI tone” in the mix as well. “There’s something cool about the tones from a real amp colliding with some wack digital tone,” he says.
James Goodson's Home Studio Gear
Guitars
- Fender Vintera ’60s Jazzmaster Modified
- Fender MIJ Telecaster
- Fender Marauder
- Fender Highway One Jazz Bass
- Fender Villager 12-String Acoustic
Amps
- Vox AC15C1
- Fender MD20 Mini Deluxe
- Fender Mini ’57 Twin-Amp
Effects
- Electro-Harmonix Big Muff
- Electro-Harmonix Op Amp Big Muff
- Behringer SF300 Super Fuzz
- Big Knob Pedals I.C.B.M. 1977 Op Amp Muff
- Permanent Electronics Silver Cord Fuzz
- Electro-Harmonix Soul Food
- Boss SD-1
- Seymour Duncan Shape Shifter
- MXR Phase 90
- MXR Micro Chorus
Interface, Mics, and Monitors
- Behringer U-Phoria UMC404HD
- Sennheiser e 609
- Shure SM57
Goodson says his biggest challenge is managing volume levels. Feedback, for example, is difficult to capture unless you push an amp to its limits, which generally involves a lot of noise. Space is limited at Goodson’s house, so he’s generally in close quarters with that squall for extended periods of time. “Thankfully, my wife is incredibly patient about the racket,” he says, “but I’m not sure if my ears are as flexible.”
“There’s something cool about the tones from a real amp colliding with some wack digital tone.” - James Goodson
Those downsides do have proportionate offsets, though. Goodson says the creative process that one can chase at home is incomparable to its studio counterpart. This ultimately comes down to time and money. “I love being able to just sit around for hours rearranging pedals in search of the ugliest fuzz or playing a part over and over trying to make the screechiest noise—the kind of thing that no one is gonna want to put up with when you have two days in a studio to record ten songs,” he says.
Pushing the boundaries of good taste is one of the sweet joys of life, but Goodson says it's important to know your limits, too. When recording at home, it’s critical to know when to tag in help, he says, and he always sends off his tracks to be mixed by a professional engineer.
The Wrap-UP
There’s a lot of technical overlap between how Feingold, Gilbert, and Goodson work, but the crucial thing they all have in common is reverence and excitement for whatever they’re playing on. Recording guitar from home works best if you really, deeply care about the sounds that you’re creating—even if they’re not for your own projects. Getting the best possible result out of your stay-at-home studio is a matter of experimentation, patience, and genuine respect for the music. You don’t have to drop big money to get those things, but you do have to practice at them. If you ever get frustrated with the process, just remember: Being a work-from-home guitarist is a pretty sweet gig.
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- Mastering the Art of Session Guitar: Tips from Nashville's Finest ›
- Rig Rundown: Adam Shoenfeld ›
- A Deep-Dive on the Elusive Fender Marauder ›
Some of these are deep cuts—get ready for some instrumental bonus tracks and Van Halen III mentions—and some are among the biggest radio hits of their time. Just because their hits, though, doesn’t mean we don’t have more to add to the conversation.
Naturally, every recording Eddie Van Halen ever played on has been pored over by legions of guitar players of all styles. It might seem funny, then, to consider EVH solos that might require more attention. But your 100 Guitarists hosts have their picks of solos that they feel merit a little discussion. Some of these are deep cuts—get ready for some instrumental bonus tracks and Van Halen III mentions—and some are among the biggest radio hits of their time. Just because their hits, though, doesn’t mean we don’t have more to add to the conversation.
We can’t cover everything EVH—Jason has already tried while producing the Runnin’ With the Dweezil podcast. But we cover as much as we can in our longest episode yet. And in the second installment of our current listening segment, we’re talking about new-ish music from Oz Noy and Bill Orcutt.
Luthier Creston Lea tells us about his favorite dirt pedal—an Athens, Georgia-made stomp that lets his guitar be a hero.
Let’s face it: Nobody can tell what overdrive pedal you’re using. Whether you’re in a carpeted suburban basement accompanying the hired clown at your nephew’s fifth birthday party or standing on the spot-lit monitor at Wembley, not one person knows whether the pedal at your feet cost $17 or $700, has true bypass, or has an internal DIP switch. Nobody leaning against the barn-dance corncrib or staunching a nosebleed up in the stadium’s cheap seats is thinking, “Heavens yes!! THAT is the sound of a silicone diode!”
So, why buy another overdrive pedal? Or six more? Are they different? (I’m asking myself.) Of course they’re different. (I’m telling myself.) A Turbo Rat is not aKlon. ATube Screamer is not a DS-1. Or is it? I can’t keep track. Why? Because it’s fun to see what the talented manufacturers of the world have to offer. And because any reader who picks up a guitar magazine for any reason other than to swat a fly is curious about what’s new and what other players are using to good effect. You can blow your savings on a guitar—I’d be happy to build you one—or an amp (or vacation or college or discount merlot or a regrettable whole-back tattoo), or you can spend $100 to $300 to satisfy your curiosity. Will anybody in the audience notice? Unlikely. Will you feel better for five minutes or the rest of your life? Maybe. Seems worth rolling the dice from time to time. Nobody gets hurt. And sometimes you’ll find a pedal that pulls something good out of your playing simply by responding to the way you play … which makes you play in new ways, etc., etc., in an infinite loop of delight. Or at least infinite till the next pedal comes along. It feels good. In a troubled and imperfect world, is it so wrong to feel good?
I bought my first overdrive pedal, a well-usedMXR Distortion+, for $25 in 1991. Surely, I could have stopped there. But many others have come and gone in the years since. Have I bought a pedal, sold it, bought it again, sold it again? More than once.
I’ve mostly, finally outgrown the desire for new pedals, but I’m not immune to the occasional itch. Sometimes a trusted brand introduces something I just haveto hear for myself. That’s particularly true in the case of smaller-scale builders whose ears I’ve learned to trust. I’m going to like everythingChris Benson of Benson Amps or Brian Mena of Menatone ever makes, for example, so why not hear it all? Sometimes it’s alluring copywriting that makes me reach for my wallet. Sometimes they just look cool.
Maybe in my case, I just can’t resist a name like Supa Cobra. Sometimes, I’d like very much for my guitar to sound exactly like a supa cobra. When Greer Amps first introduced their Supa Cobra six years ago—described as delivering “chewy medium gain overdrive to awesome crunchy grind!”—I was immediately intrigued.
Oh, how I love the Supa Cobra—a woefully underappreciated pedal now only available from Greer by special request. I’m sure there are smart players who have discovered the joys of its lower-gain settings, but for me it’s perfect for punching through sonic mud and letting my guitar be heard. It lets my guitar be a hero.
I like it best with its 3-way clipping switch set to the middle position, which, according to Greer, bypasses the other modes’ clipping diodes and lets the op amp’s natural drive come through. I can’t say I know exactly what that means, but I know it’s loud and clear and compressed in just the right way to let sustained notes really sing out in a natural, power amp-y manner.
The Supa Cobra’s greatest feature may be the body control that dials in low-end presence without adding any murk. At higher body settings, the notes push on my chest in a way that I find thrilling. I like it around 60 percent with the gain knob turned nearly full up. Perhaps excessive, but life is short. When it’s time to sound big, it’s the biggest-sounding pedal I’ve found. Lots of overtones, but not at the expense of clarity. It’s quick to jump into harmonic feedback at the gain-y settings I like best, but in a beautifully controlled way.
As a matter of fact, I think people do notice what overdrive pedal I’m using. Not that they know it’s a Supa Cobra, but it makes my guitar leap out in a way that so many other pedals have not. To borrow a word from Greer’s Lightspeed Organic Overdrive (also fantastic), it sounds organic. Or, very much unlike a wasp in a tuna can. I think it sounds like music. Loud music.A dual-channel tube preamp and overdrive pedal inspired by the Top Boost channel of vintage VOX amps.
ROY is designed to deliver sweet, ringing cleans and the "shattered" upper-mid breakup tones without sounding harsh or brittle. It is built around a 12AX7 tube that operates internally at 260VDC, providing natural tube compression and a slightly "spongy" amp-like response.
ROY features two identical channels, each with separate gain and volume controls. This design allows you to switch from clean to overdrive with the press of a footswitch while maintaining control over the volume level. It's like having two separate preamps dialed in for clean and overdrive tones.
Much like the old amplifier, ROY includes a classic dual-band tone stack. This unique EQ features interactive Treble and Bass controls that inversely affect the Mids. Both channels share the EQ section.
Another notable feature of this circuit is the Tone Cut control: a master treble roll-off after the EQ. You can shape your tone using the EQ and then adjust the Tone Cut to reduce harshness in the top end while keeping your core sound.
ROY works well with other pedals and can serve as a clean tube platform at the end of your signal chain. It’s a simple and effective way to add a vintage British voice to any amp or direct rig setup.
ROY offers external channel switching and the option to turn the pedal on/off via a 3.5mm jack. The preamp comes with a wall-mount power supply and a country-specific plug.
Street price is 299 USD. It is available at select retailers and can also be purchased directly from the Tubesteader online store at www.tubesteader.com.
With a few clicks on Reverb, a reptile-inspired shred machine was born.
With this guitar, I wanted to create a shadowbox-type vibe by adding something you could see inside. I have always loved the Yamaha Pacifica guitars because of the open pickup cavity and the light weight, so I purchased this body off Reverb (I think I am addicted to that website). I also wanted a color that was vivid and bold. The seller had already painted it neon yellow, so when I read in the description, “You can see this body from space,” I immediately clicked the Buy It Now button. I also purchased the neck and pickups off of Reverb.
I have always loved the reverse headstock, simply because nothing says 1987 (the best year in the history of the world) like a reverse headstock. The pickups are both Seymour Duncan—an SH-1N in the neck position and TB-4 in the bridge, both in a very cool lime green color. Right when these pickups got listed, the Buy It Now button once again lit up like the Fourth of July. I am a loyal disciple of Sperzel locking tuners and think Bob Sperzel was a pure genius, so I knew those were going on this project even before I started on it. I also knew that I wanted a Vega-Trem; those units are absolutely amazing.
When the body arrived, I thought it would be cool to do some kind of burst around the yellow so I went with a neon green. It turned out better than I imagined. Next up was the shaping and cutting of the pickguard. I had this crocodile-type, faux-leather material that I glued on the pickguard and then shaped to my liking. I wanted just a single volume control and no tone knob, because, like King Edward (Van Halen) once said, “Your volume is your tone.”
T. Moody
I then shaped and glued the faux-leather material in the cavity. The tuning knobs, volume knob, pickguard, screws, and selector switch were also painted in the lemon-lime paint scheme. I put everything together, installed the pickups, strung it up, set it up, plugged it in, and I was blown away. I think this is the best-playing and -sounding guitar I have ever tried.
The only thing missing was the center piece and strap. The latter was easy because DiMarzio makes their ClipLock in neon green. The center piece was more difficult because originally, I was thinking that some kind of gator-style decoration would be cool. In the end, I went with a green snake, because crocodiles ain’t too flexible—and they’re way too big to fit in a pickup cavity!
The Green Snake’s back is just as striking as the front.